


somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond

by eelyak



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Carlos, Carlos-centric, M/M, Social Anxiety, Very slight by Night Vale standards, slight magical realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eelyak/pseuds/eelyak
Summary: Before Carlos was Carlos-the-scientist, he was Carlos-the-quiet-bookish-one. It’s jarring when he moves to Night Vale and suddenly feels seen.Or, the one where Carlos experiences the mortifying ordeal of being known.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 88





	somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond

**Author's Note:**

> The characterizations in this fic are mostly based on the early podcast episodes, because that’s what I know. Hopefully this doesn’t clash too much with any new character development Carlos has had since then. 
> 
> It’s also slightly canon divergent, emphasis on the slightly.

When Carlos was growing up he had sometimes felt like he existed in a void—as if there was an invisible vacuum around him that kept other people from hearing him. Or seeing him. Or noticing that he existed. 

Classmates he had known since kindergarten did not recognize him if Carlos passed them in the hallways at school. When he had been too young to stay home alone, his parents had gone through a long string of babysitters before they found one who consistently did not forget that Carlos’ sister was not an only child. Carlos had once made a close friend at a summer camp, promised to become pen pals, and been devastated when she responded to his first letter with a brief, neatly-penned message that basically amounted to _Do I know you?_

Carlos dreaded walking into class on days when there was a substitute teacher; he would wait at his desk trying not to fidget as the substitute took attendance and inevitably either skipped Carlos’ name entirely or counted him absent because his “here!” wasn’t heard. 

Carlos had done experiments to test whether he was just soft-spoken. In the quiet of his bedroom when his parents weren’t in the house to overhear, he would take recordings of himself speaking next to TVs and radios turned up to reasonable volumes. When he played the recordings back, Carlos could hear himself clearly over the sounds on the TV. His voice was loud enough. That wasn’t the problem. 

So what was the problem? Carlos spent most of his adolescent years alone, initiating himself into the sacred, solitary cult of Science, while trying to puzzle out what it was that made him uniquely unremarkable. He did not find much success. 

He didn’t think it was body language; his nana had drilled into him the importance of good posture, and Carlos made a conscious effort to carry himself with confidence. 

Maybe it was his clothes? Carlos had never been one to wear bright colors—the idea of drawing attention to himself by donning a particular neon green jacket that he found at a thrift store had once made Carlos so uncomfortable that he had shelved that experiment immediately—but it wasn’t like his usual wardrobe, blue jeans and basic t-shirts, were camouflage. They were very common articles of clothing that didn’t turn other people invisible, so it didn’t make sense that they would have such a disparate effect on Carlos. 

It had gotten so bad that some days, after a lab partner or stranger at the library would make a comment about how he seemed shy, Carlos wanted to stand up and scream, _I’M NOT SHY! It’s just that no one is listening!_

But he didn’t, because that wouldn’t help. Instead he nodded politely, made vague noncommittal sounds, and looked for the fastest escape route. 

Carlos had always been a man of science, so he knew that there was no such thing as a mysterious, ever-present void that cloaked him in silence. The only explanation must have been that Carlos himself had some trait that compelled people to never pay more than fleeting attention to him. 

  
  


Then Carlos moved to Night Vale, and everything changed. 

  
  


Initially, Carlos had been jealous of Cecil’s voice. There was a certain quality to it that hooked one in—almost as if a primal element in the timbre said, _Listen to me. I am saying something of vital significance._

Carlos wondered what it would be like to go through life with a voice like that. Would it be a gift? Or would it be more like a curse, similar but opposite to Carlos’?

Cecil’s immediate and vocal interest in Carlos was unnerving—then flattering—then some strange combination of adjectives that made Carlos feel itchy and nauseous. He was simultaneously elated by the prospect that his affliction might have disappeared here in this strange, wonderful town where nothing behaved as it was expected to...and apprehensive about what that meant for him, after so many years of relying on his anonymity as an almost scientific constant. 

Carlos had gone so long without being noticed by anyone that the sudden affection of an entire community flustered him. He was not sure how to handle his newfound celebrity, and he found himself retreating to the privacy of his lab very frequently in his first few weeks after coming to Night Vale. 

The legally mandated meals at Big Rico’s may have been the worst part. Every time Carlos walked through the door—which had a bell that jingled cheerfully on Mondays through Wednesdays, ominously on Thursdays, not at all on Fridays, and emitted playful shrieks during the weekend—he would be greeted by several friendly patrons. The “Hi, Carlos!”s and “How’s the science going, handsome?”s were nice; but they were nice in an unfamiliar way that made Carlos’ palms sweaty and his heart beat uncomfortably fast in his chest. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for having a social life. He might be like those lone animals in nature documentaries who fended for themselves in the wild, and living as a prominent Night Vale resident could be as incompatible with Carlos’ basic nature as captivity at a zoo would be for them. Or maybe Carlos was being dramatic and antisocial. 

“Probably the second one,” Carlos mumbled, mostly to himself, partially to the secret police officer badly hidden behind the jukebox next to Carlos’ table. 

Eventually Carlos and Cecil had a conversation. For once there were no science- or radio-related distractions, and they were alone. They had been making small talk—something about the weather, which had been going through a punk phase—and the comfort that he felt speaking with Cecil made Carlos bold. 

“Why have you been paying so much attention to me?” Carlos asked. Some of his confusion must have bled into his voice, because Cecil’s eyes went soft and worried. “No one has ever noticed me as much as you have. Not—um, well, not that I don’t appreciate being noticed. It’s just—why?”

Carlos felt his face heat. He had never wanted to be abruptly consumed by the Glow Cloud more than in that moment. It would spare him the embarrassment of watching Cecil react to his fumbling, unpracticed social skills. 

“Carlos.” Cecil said his name like it was something precious. No one else had said Carlos’ name like that before. “You are the most noticeable person I have ever met.”

At Carlos’ small frown, Cecil sent him an incredulous look and said, “I am not sure who you associated with before you came to our town, but clearly they were not worthy of you, if they didn’t appreciate you properly. Perfect, unforgettable Carlos! I have been distracted by you and your Science”—Cecil said that last word a bit breathlessly, and Carlos could tell somehow that he said it with an uppercase S—“since the moment you arrived in Night Vale.” 

“Thanks, Cecil,” Carlos said. He still felt warm. He broke eye contact with Cecil, because looking into that earnest purple seemed to do dangerous things to Carlos’ heartbeat. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment to let me know what you think! I would love your feedback.


End file.
